A/N: Although The Thursday War has received good reviews… I am nonetheless sceptical after having taken my fair share of morality beatings from Traviss's work. I may read it, but do forgive me if I miss certain lore from the Bravo Kilo trilogy.
XXxxXX
"Four years ago, Kilo-Five dropped off the grid, and started calling themselves Bravo Kilo. ARG reported sightings of them in redzones. We sent in SOGs to investigate. However, Bravo Kilo was tipped off and created a trap. They kidnapped ARG Operative Corona and held her as bait. We lost Second Element, Third Element, Three Echo and Three Bravo. I wonder how things would've been if we hadn't transferred Naomi back to the Twos. Maybe she would've stopped Bravo Kilo, or maybe she would've joined them."
-(Formerly) LTCOL Doctor Essingdon Dominic Keyes
XXxxXX
ABOARD AN OSPREY, TERMINUS SYSTEMS, LEAVING OMEGA
"We've got a live one," Salas said, looking at the scanners' feed.
John cursed at himself, swore at himself, and berated himself. He couldn't believe he neglected to do one simple thing, one simple thing that would've saved lives. He forgot to verify the Osprey that was picking up the remaining two ONISAD Operatives, and now because of that, one was half-dead and the other was off grid.
He saw it all on the feed, watched Arca and Lotus run for their very lives with adjutants chasing them. He watched them run, only for one to be shot in the back, and the other crushed by rubble.
When Adrian had fallen off the dropship, he fell down several levels but his tag was still online and transmitting his vitals. Bryce on the other hand, well, his tag went offline the moment the station collapsed right on top of him.
"Cortana, ETA on collision," Chief asked.
"Calculating, five minutes."
John was about to say something but the AI cut him off.
"Chief, the station's deteriorated to the point we can't get close… we're going to have to wait it out."
"Relay the order for all available dropships to loiter," the Spartan ordered.
The AI complied. All Ospreys that hadn't yet reached an awaiting ship, or didn't have any wounded on them, altered their course.
"Chief, look at that!" Cortana pointed. There wasn't a hardlight platform lying around on the Osprey, so the AI was forced to highlight the point of interest.
XXxxXX
BINDUR, OMEGA, TERMINUS SYSTEMS
Adrian took in a deep breath for air. His chest rose and fell as he came back to the living. His armour had revived him. The nanites had repaired his body as much as they could, but without the sufficient resources or biomass, there wasn't much they could do. He groaned in pain, his face contorted and his fist clenched as he pulled himself free from a rebar that snared his legs.
Suit integrity – moderately damaged
Repairs – 60%; Suit now capable of operating in vacuum
Shields – minimal functionality
Current location – unknown
Running diagnostics on user
His breathing began to slow down and the dots in his vision cleared, allowing him to collect his thoughts. His back felt torn, but it was no longer bleeding, that was usually a good sign. Arca's HUD began to display his bio-readout, and it wasn't looking good. Catalyst rounds were embedded inside of him, and one had grazed past his skull and took out his cam. If he hadn't moved when he heard Osman's voice, he would've been killed. Adrian had years of training and experience to thank for that reflex.
User integrity: critical; but stable
Adrian ignored the following messages on his HUD. His body was stable and he could still move, that was good enough for him. Only though, he was moving, someone was dragging him.
"It's okay," Bryce said, breathing heavily. "I got you."
He felt pain spread through his body like wildfire, Catalyst rounds were usually impeded by the positronic and nanite implants, but still effects were devastating. Adrian tried to keep his breathing under control to reign in the burning sensation.
"Where are we?" the Operative asked weakly.
"Inside of Bindur," Bryce answered. "Station slowed, but we still crashed. Kinda like Requiem."
He pulled Adrain away from the burning wreckage that was once Omega. Millions of people were still aboard the station when the retreat had been called. Many that survived were either trapped beneath the rubble, killed on impact, or scrambling out of the ruins.
Easing Adrian onto a boulder which lay at an outcrop overlooking the crashsite, Bryce began to administer whatever painkillers they had left.
"Thought you were dead," Adrian muttered.
"Takes more than that to kill me," Bryce grinned. "Is your feed still broadcasting?"
Adrian pointed to the shattered optics over his left eye. "Broadcasting on secondary."
The Operative took in another deep breath as stimulants and painkillers flooded his bloodstream. The pain was still there, but he could ignore it now. He could move under his own strength now.
"You good?" Bryce asked, hoisting Adrian up to his feet.
The Operative nodded.
"Here take this," Arca was handed a Cerberus Harrier. It packed a decent punch and recoil wasn't too bad.
"…Come…n… this…" the transmission was choppy and filled with static, but Adrian could make out who it was.
"Chief, you're breaking up, say again!"
"Arca, status!"
"Lotus and I have made landfall, we're finding a safe place to hold up for now."
"Copy that, hang tight, we're coming in."
The link was promptly terminated as the two Operatives climbed up a hillside to the summit. Upon reaching the top in a few minutes, Arca and Lotus took up defensive position amongst the rocks and trees that covered the mesa.
"COM working?" Adrian asked.
"No," the reply came.
Sweeping back and forth over the insanely large crash site, Adrian could see the survivors scramble from the wreckage and regroup with their factions. And just like that, the fighting resumed all over again.
Omega may have crashed into the heart of Bindur but something inside the planet had slowed the station's descent into hell. Though, Adrian really didn't care. He and Bryce were still alive, and right now, it was all that mattered.
"Oh fuck!" Lotus swore, he pointed out a cluster of heavy fire. Cerberus and Aegis Troopers were being overwhelmed by a firestorm of gunfire.
Arca shifted his gaze. "Shit!"
The Operative quickly switched on his COM. "Are you getting this!"
"Oh my god," said a familiar feminine voice on the other end.
"Enact contingency protocols now! Forget about us!"
"We're already on approach," the Chief said sternly. His voice said that he wasn't going to leave a man behind. Adrian knew why, he had read the files the first time around.
"Plans?" Bryce asked.
The air began to fill was frantic screams and sporadic gunfire. Stray rounds came a little too close for comfort. A sickening feeling spread across Adrian's body as he saw a sea of rotten pale greenish yellow surge through the ruins.
The clash between desperate slum constructions and superb Forerunner architecture was a powerful one that only seemed to enhance the terrifying effect of the Flood. Spires in the distance began to shudder and surrender to gravity.
How long have they been here? Arca wondered. Was this all on convoluted and insane trap? It sure felt like it. Nothing was logical in the conventional sense when the Parasite came out to play.
"We got contact!" Lotus warned.
Flood forms were crawling up the mesa, forcing the two Operatives to open fire. Some of the combat forms were assimilated combatants from Omega. Others were pure forms, probably as old as Bindur itself.
The deathly howls of hunger and decay wrought fear to those who heard it. Adrian dreaded it, hated it, and feared it. It was the sound of an insatiable hunger, and unshackled power. Keyes had spent hundreds of years studying the Flood, he had summed them up into being the ultimate parasitic hive entity. It was capable of self-evolution on an unprecedented scale. But most of all, it possessed an innate intuition on the smallest level that was thought non-existent. One spore could well indeed bring down an entire planet by itself.
There was a misconception that the Flood assimilated the host mere seconds, though that was true, it had never really occurred to anyone that the Parasite was capable of passive assimilation. No one lived long enough to see it happen.
"Hit centre mass," Adrian said, "Headshots won't do much."
SOGs had been trained to always hit the head, but the combat forms' weakness was not the head, but the chest. It was wear the infectious form resided. Kill that, and the body will become limp.
Arca felt the Harrier kick lightly against his shoulder as he rained accurate fire down on the Flood struggling up the incline. The rifle hissed and beeped as its thermal clip was spent, forcing him to eject the superhot casing and slap in a fresh one.
Combat forms darted back and forth, firing with whatever weapons they had in their hands. The hellish volume of fire forced the two Operatives to retreat to the other end of the mesa. Dozens of parasites exploded or fell beneath the salvos of superb marksman ship, but there was plenty left still alive.
One form which used to be a female PMC leapt over a thicket and landed right in front of Adrian. He felt his gag reflexes kick in as the unfiltered stench coursed through his malfunctioning mask. The form's head was bent back awkwardly, her head was still agape and her hair flowed lazily down her back.
Arca quickly slammed the butt of the Harrier into the form's sagged and withered chest, and was rewarded with the sound of snapping ribs and crushed organs. The form dropped like a puppet, allowing the Operative to police the AD17 Assault Rifle.
The weapon was a particle accelerator weapon, constantly misidentified as plasma. Everyone in RnD knew how bad plasma was in atmospheric conditions.
Adrian shouldered the weapon, and returned to his gruesome work. The rounds from the rifle burned straight through unshielded flesh and armour, filling the air with a foul stench.
"We're losing a lot of ground!" Lotus griped.
He slapped in a fresh clip for his battle rifle and continued firing, trying his best to keep the horde at bay. The weapon thumped and roared as it hurled out rounds at high velocity. Bullets tore straight through flesh and bone, toppling over dozens at a time.
But the Flood was not defeated, even in their limp state, they continued to crawl, tentacles outstretched. Lotus curbed stomped an infectious form that got to close, while shooting another pure ranged form.
So far there was no sign of the carrier forms or the behemoth, which was good news so far. Adrian would have no idea how he and Bryce could deal with the heavier archetypes in their heavily wounded state.
As they retreated down the rocky slopes, a lot of the dead Flood forms began to roll down, adding more to the issue.
"Fuck this!" Bryce swore.
With his rifle empty, he twirled it, and handled it at the barrel, holding it like a bat. He swung it savagely at an assimilated krogan that had decided to go in for the charge. Lotus was rewarded with a resounding thwack, a broken carapace, a horribly bent rifle, and a shower of gore.
He discarded the useless weapon, and unsheathed Yamamoto, activating the plasma edge. The sword hissed a cracked, leaving trails of ionised air in its wake. Blue arcs leapt down as the Operative scythed through a cluster of infectious forms and an assimilated turian.
Things were getting really messy now, it was hard to keep track of where they were headed. Adrian was sure that they had deviated off their original course. But they were still going downhill.
"Airspace is too hot, we need to land a few hundred metres north of your position," the Chief said over the COMs.
"Copy that," Arca growled. He switched off the link. "Fuck!"
The AD17 ran out of ammo, its cells depleted. With a pistol in the left and the sword in the other, Adrian continued on fighting. He couldn't count how many kills he had accumulated, it was too many. But he was thankful that his shield meter hadn't dipped below critical.
"We gotta move!" He said, seeing the nav marker on his static washed HUD.
"I see it," Lotus concurred.
The two Operatives made a mad dash down the hill, jumping over sharp rock edges and through bushes. The Flood were still close, in fact, they were everywhere. Adrian was sure that he and Bryce were the only people left that hadn't been assimilated.
Rounds of all kinds splashed and dug into the grass around their position, kicking up dirt and shattering rocks.
"Where the fuck are the sentinels!" Bryce roared.
"Got a visual!" Adrian panted, he highlighted the flying entities in the distance.
The two Operatives felt relief washed across them as they saw the containment unit roll across the infested grounds. But that relief and elation was short lived.
"You just don't get it do you! I've seen them evolve! They can assimilate machines now!" Adrian remembered Keyes say.
Bindur's sentinels had been assimilated a long time ago. The once sleek and streamlined machines were now encased in a carapace of decay. They were coming in to find and kill any stragglers.
Adrian's heart dipped even further when he realised that there were at least half a dozen enforcer sentinels within his field of sight, all assimilated.
"There is no fucking way our luck can be that bad!" Lotus swore.
Enforcers broke formation and came down on them like hungry vultures, pummelling the ground around them with mortar fire.
"Run!" Adrian roared. The Operative flicked on his COM. "Chief, what do we have for air assets?"
"Just us, Keyes has ordered a full retreat."
"Shit."
Arca and Lotus ran for their very lives, throwing as much force into every push as superhumanly possible.
Adrian emptied the last of his pistol mag into a krogan combat form, before jumping onto the fallen body with a sickening thud. The two hacked their way through the horde, burning flesh and melting armour, their air filled with the horrible smell of cooked bodies.
"Almost there!" Bryce panted.
Since he was not as wounded as Adrian, the Operative had taken the lead in the run, but he wasn't willing to leave his friend behind. They scrambled onto another mesa, putting a few more precious metres between them and the enemy.
But still, there was a large volume of fire thrown their way.
"I got eyes on the drop…" Bryce never got to finish.
Like a bird of prey, a flying Flood form screeched in and grabbed the Operative with one of its biomechanical tentacles. It was like the cross between an infected squid and a Reaper. Squids and Octopi were something Adrian was innately fearful of. Seeing his friend just being plucked off the ground by his worst nightmare was… petrifying.
He could only stare numbly as Bryce was tossed around like a ragdoll before being dragged off.
"Bryce!" Adrian screamed. "Bryce!"
The COMs flickered to life. "Arca!" it was the Chief, "Haul ass out of there!"
Snapping out of his daze, the Operative realised that the Flood was upon him once more. He kicked a combat form squarely in the chest, watching it fly back reeling end over end. It left a trail of greenish blood across the rocks.
But the lapse in concentration had cost him dearly, one form managed to get close enough to lash out with its misshapen appendage. Adrian's shields drained by a quarter, it was enough incentive for him to run.
He pushed as hard as his legs would allow him to, and crashed into a combat form wielding an Ember rifle. He quickly hacked off the creatures arms, sheathed the blade, and took the weapon.
…
Sammi felt at ease with the two Spartans taking charge. As soon as the Osprey's doors had opened, the Chief and Commander Shepard had thundered down the ramp and taken up defensive positions. Salas quickly ordered her Helljumpers to form a defensive ring around the dropship, creating interlocking fields of fire.
The ODST cradled her Sabre-L, it packed a strong punch, but its fire rate was significantly lower than the SCAR-L. She assumed that by the end of the month, the SCAR family would replace the MA9 as the standard issue.
"Stay frosty boys and girls," Huntress said.
He'll be here soon.
"This is Arca!" his voice crackled over the COM, he sounded stressed, frustrated, and shocked. "Something has just grabbed Lotus! I repeat, something just fucking grabbed Lotus! He's gone."
It wasn't lost on Salas when she saw the Chief shifted and rolled his shoulders.
A few minutes later, the tempo of battle had increased significantly. The Flood was aware of an available transport for the taking. But the ODSTs stood their ground, and aimed for centre mass. Hundreds of the fleshy bastards burst into mists of greenish plumes, causing a chain reaction amongst its own cluster.
"Combat form, left!"
"Shifting left!"
Sala pivoted and aimed down her sight. The form shuddered and came to a crashing halt, unable to get up until it was revived again. But Shepard made sure that the thing would never come back to live.
Sammi watched in fascination as the Commander was enveloped in an azure mist, and sent lances of it into the horde. Scores of infectious forms exploded, while combat forms were plucked off the ground and dangled helplessly.
The resulting biotic explosion tore the forms into smaller pieces that would pose a problem for the immediate future.
"Coming in from the south!" Arca gasped, "I need covering fire!"
The forsaken howls and horrific growls began to increase; it grated on the Captain's nerves and almost robbed her of her will to fight. But so long as the Chief was still standing, the Helljumpers would stand their ground.
Arca appeared over the ledge, scrambling up onto the mesa. His armour was battered, charred, and caked in a layer of his own blood. Every so often, he would turn around, and smite a form with his sword, cutting them neatly in half.
By the time he reached the dropship, it was clear to Sammi that he was running on stims. His breath was laboured, his blue eyes had a hint of yellow, and he was on the verge of collapse. The Chief broke from his position by the door and shouldered the wounded Operative, helping him onto the Osprey.
"Everybody, back in the bird!" Salas ordered.
Methodically, the ODSTs broke off from their interlocking fields of fire and boarded the dropship. The doors had barely closed when the pilot gunned the engines, roaring for Bindur's exit.
"We're clear!" the pilot said.
Sammi looked out the viewport and was greeted by the sight of the red-orange nebulas that surrounded the system. They were safe… for now.
"Easy, easy," she heard the Chief say. Salas pivoted her head to see Arca sitting in the seat opposite to her. His helmet or hood lay in a crumpled heap by his feet, and his face was buried into his palms.
"He's gone," Arca whispered.
The Chief said nothing, but sat down next to the Operative, and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Shepard remained quiet, but she had removed her helmet and gave a sorrowful expression.
It was clear to Salas that Lotus was a friend to these people.
"Thanks for coming to get me," Arca said softly.
"You're welcome," the Chief and Shepard said in unison.
Slowly, Arca removed his hands and looked up. He turned his blue eyes and looked deeply into her brown ones. Sammi's heartbeat slowed to a crawl. The last time she had seen those eyes, they were deep brown, and filled with warmth and life. Now, they were blue and cold, and weeping with blood and tears.
"Adrian?" she barely whispered.
A sad smile formed across his lips. "Hey Sammi."
"Bryce is Lotus, isn't he?"
A nod, a very slow and agonising nod.
"And Etrius?"
"Dust on Earth," came the weak and saddened reply.
Salas leaned back into her chair, trying to process what she had learnt. Her eyes were wide, and filled with shock. No doubt her people would ask her about this, she had always been strong for them. But realising that her childhood friends were Spooks, either broken or dead, it shocked her. Drained her, leaving only a dark emptiness.
XXxxXX
ABOARD A GREYHAWK, TERMINUS SYSTEMS, EN ROUTE TO NIGHT HORSE
Sandman was unconscious, but his condition was stable. And Arca was secured. That was one less thing for Palmer to worry about as eased off her helmet and turned to face the other ONISAD Operative. He sat on the bench with his shoulders sagging, and head bent. It was something Sarah had come to know all too well, despair and defeat.
"How are you holding?" Palmer asked, trying to ease the pregnant silence.
The Operative eased off his helmet, and turned his broken face towards her. His blue eyes were bleeding; his beard clung to each other by blood. She didn't know his name, and felt prudent to ask.
"My name is Mitchell Ronald Coulson," he began, "they call me Oxide."
The callsign didn't click with her. It quickly dawned on her that he was Sixth Element. They weren't there for the introductions, and Ninth were in their Prowler. An eerie ghostly feeling spread through Sarah as a conflict of emotions swirled within. It was a cold anger, mixed with a calm acceptance and sympathy.
Oxide was one of the people that killed Crimson-Two. In the time that Palmer had been with ONISAD, she realised one thing… every single one of them was broken. Every single one had a shattered soul, a bane of themselves. Slowly, Sarah's hand hovered over her sidearm.
Mitchell bee-lined the movement, but he didn't react to it. Instead, he looked Palmer dead in the eye. His Adam's apple dipped down and he exhaled slowly.
"Look at what they make us give," he said softly, "look at how much we gladly give. Look at how much she made us give… and how much we gladly gave."
His voice was hoarse and on the verge of breaking. Palmer couldn't find it in herself to even point a gun at him.
"Everything you need, is on the Nightwalker, and this helmet," Mitchell said, tossing his helmet to Sarah's feet. "Forgive me."
With one swift motion, Oxide drew his pistol, pointed it at his temple and squeezed the trigger. Time seemed to slow down as blood and brain matter was sent flying within the hold. Palmer jumped in shock.
She had never seen anyone commit suicide right in front of her, never seen a man desperate enough to put a bullet through his brain.
Slowly Thorne moved towards Mitchell. Sarah had forgotten that the Spartan was standing right next to her. He didn't jump, he didn't shudder, but his shoulder sagged in sadness. It was then she realised that he had become one of them a long time ago. He was one helluva good actor, able to pass himself off as the quiet and unassuming Spartan, just like Keyes, until they received the transfer.
Gabriel knelt next to the body slumped in the chair, and closed Mitchell's eyes.
"Be at peace," he whispered, almost prayer like, "Kýrie Eléison."
Religion wasn't as widespread as it used to be. Extremists had aligned themselves with Rebel groups, abhorrent of how augmented humanity had become. A large percentage of the Coalition still followed a faith of some kind, but there were also large portions who were atheists and agnostic.
It seemed logical that the people in ONI would practice a faith in order to seek a small measure of peace that became ever so fleeting as each day passes.
Sarah felt something inside her wither away, the fire, the flair in her personality forever extinguished, and replaced by something else. Something like a grim acceptance.
…
ABOARD UNSC NIGHT HORSE
The Greyhawk touched down into the main hangar bay. Sarah and Gabriel stepped aside and let the medics do their work. Some of them had been long timers, unfazed by Spook that had committed suicide.
"I'll make sure Sandman's okay," Thorne said. "Are you going to be okay?"
Palmer nodded, not trusting her own voice to work. Seeing Mitchell's empty eyes, only filled with despair, before he pulled the trigger, it stirred something inside her. This was exactly what Adrian had warned her about.
"I'll see you in a few," Gabriel said, before trailing behind Riley's stretcher.
Hawker, the pilot, exited and gave Sarah a look of condolences before leaving. This wasn't the first time someone had blown the brains out in his bird.
Palmer paced back and forth on deck, until finally, the last Osprey arrived. It was what she cared about at the moment. She didn't give a damn about the salvos of nukes leaving the ships. All she wanted to know was if Adrian and Bryce made it out okay.
But when the doors parted open, Sarah felt her heart drop, and her chest ache. The ODSTs went their separate ways; their Captain gave a small word of reassurance before leaving. Adrian whispered something to Shepard and the Chief, allowing them to leave. They had pressing concerns with Keyes, but Sarah didn't care.
The moment she saw Adrian's blood caked face, cold eyes and slumped posture, she knew that a lot of him had curled up and died. Bryce was a symbol to all SOGs, a fleeting dream that only he had caught, while the rest, like Adrian had lost.
In one hand, he held his helmet by the strap, letting it batter against his legs uncaringly. In the other hand, he held the Ember rifle.
"Adrian," Sarah called.
He didn't answer; he was just focused solely on getting somewhere.
Unable to trust him in his current condition, she slowly brushed her fingers along his hand, forcing him to relinquish the rifle. His fingers slowly uncurled from the grip, allowing her to carry the weapon. Next, she removed the pistol from his holster, and blades from their scabbards. Sarah had already seen one man take his own life today, and she'd be damned if she was going to let Adrian take his.
The two never stopped walking, Sarah just followed Adrian, making sure that he wouldn't do something stupid. She was aware that he had been shot in the back with Catalyst rounds, but she wasn't going to push it. His body was stable anyway.
As they walked through the decontamination chambers, Palmer watched the murky water cascade off Adrian, slowly washing away the mud and blood. She wouldn't say he came out squeaky clean on the other end, but at least she could see the camo pattern now.
They continued on walking silence, just walking, until they finally reached the park. He still looked like hell amongst the beautiful plant life. He led her through the mazes until finally they reached a quiet and secluded hilltop, overlooking the rest of the park.
Adrian fell to his knees, and leaned his head against a tree trunk. He drew his fist, and punched into the thick timber. Sarah quickly ambled over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. She didn't know what to do, she felt helpless, constricted.
She watched as tears mixed with blood stream down his cheeks and drop onto the grass. A silent cry escaped his lips. He drew his fist again, and slammed into the trunk. He cried again, roaring in pain and grief. His chest heaved, his eyes flared and quickly turned into anger before disappearing again into coldness and despair.
"He's gone," Adrian whispered. "I did everything to keep him safe, but he's gone."
Sarah knew there was nothing she could say that could help. She hated that. Usually she could set a soldier straight by making them suck it up. But how could she tell Adrian to belt up? How could she tell Mitchell to belt up? The answer is no, she couldn't. Because they spent their entire careers repressing it, and when it could no longer be contained, it could not be containable. That was the reality of it.
"Why do I get to live?" he whispered.
Adrian pivoted and gazed straight into her eyes. "Tell me, why do I get to live? And they don't?"
Sarah turned her gaze away, she couldn't answer that. Slowly, they shifted their stance, and just sat at the tree.
"How am I going to tell my family about this?" he asked softly.
"You're lucky to still have a family," Sarah blurted. She suddenly regretted saying it.
"I've read your file," he said. "I know. But how do I tell Julia about this? How do I tell Bryce's parents about this? How do I tell them?"
His head slowly dipped down again. The two remained there for some time, letting Adrian grieve silently.
XXxxXX
"Is it Three-Echo or Echo-Three?"
-Garad
"Echo-Three indicates ONISAD, Three-Echo indicates a SpecWar Team."
-Sandman
"That's confusing… we're called Third Element, so logically it should be Three-Echo"
-Garad
"It's Echo-Three [shrugs], you get used to it."
-Sandman
XXxxXX
A/N: I think I've turned Palmer's character around a lot. Does anyone still see her as Major Annoying Pain Gung-ho Marine in this story anymore?
I also consider this to be my master piece at targeting the feels.
…
On another note… I seriously regret having Shepard's name as Jane because it sounds so generic. Shoulda made it "Emma" or "Abigail" (no wait, that's taken), or "Alicia" or something along those lines. The Chief's name, John, it may seem generic, but there is a biblical meaning behind it.
…
Please leave a review and let me know.
